


War Heroes In Love

by orphan_account



Series: prank war!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prank Wars, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The fact that Misha's group of friends is in a serious prank war with Jensen's group of friends totally doesn't stop them from having sex whenever they can. It's just that no one can know. </i>
</p>
<p>Once again, based on a prompt. This one: I would like a fic with Jensen/Misha and something about a prank war. Whether it's before, during, or after the prank war is up to you. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Heroes In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jokerindisguise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerindisguise/gifts).



> Written for one of my best friends, Melody. <3
> 
> I love you and I hope you enjoy this at least a little bit. :)

“Jared put dog shit in my bag,” Misha complains playfully as he catches the hem of Jensen’s t-shirt in his fingers and pulls it up, “I mean, I think it was dog shit. It smelled like dog shit. _I_ smelled like dog shit afterwards.”

Jensen giggles, not sure whether it’s the fact Misha is so annoyed or the fact Misha’s fingers are wandering up his abdomen. Might as well be both. “You always smell like dog shit. Because you never shower.”

“Uh oh, not true,” Misha protests and rolls Jensen’s t-shirt all the way up, dragging his nails over Jensen’s skin. “I showered not even fifteen minutes ago.” 

“Well, yeah,” Jensen admits as he reaches out and tangles his fingers in Misha’s short hair. Sometimes he really wishes Misha would grow it out a bit, just so he could pull at it at times like this. “But that’s only because there were blowjobs involved.”

Misha pulls himself up until he’s eye level with Jensen, and then he smirks. “That’s kinda true, though.”

“I know it’s true, idiot,” Jensen laughs and with his fingers still in Misha’s hair, he pulls him closer and presses his lips against Misha’s.

Finally. He wanted to do this the whole week. It’s serious torture seeing Misha every single day, whether it’s somewhere in the office, or in the hallways, or in the cafeteria. It still hurts to not be able to drag him out of the room, slam him against a wall and shove his tongue down his throat. But they can’t afford that. 

Honestly, Jensen thought prank wars were kind of a high-school-only sort of business, but it turns out they weren’t, and it turns out Jensen chose the wrong people to team up with. It’s because Jared looked at him with his damn puppy eyes and went, “I need your help”, and it’s also because he was the first one to ask him, and Jensen certainly didn’t know helping Jared would consist of pranking Seb Roché, which also meant pranking Misha because they were a team.

So, yeah. Officially, they’ve been in Team Padalecki versus Team Roché war for weeks. Enemies at day, lovers at night. It’s been working so far. 

They have something they wouldn’t have at high school, and that’s Jensen’s or Misha’s flat where no one can interrupt them or catch them making out furiously. Yeah, their relationship sounds kind of high school-y, but that would be it. 

But, really – ask Jensen, or ask _Jared_ how the whole prank war started, and neither of them would give you a suitable answer. For all Jensen knows, everything was unicorns and rainbows and then the next day he was placing a box with mice under Seb’s table and receiving couch advice from Jared (“…and God protect you if I ever see you talking to Collins. I will castrate you.”).

Anyway, it’s not like Jensen can think about any of that while lying half-naked (why did he put on his shirt and briefs after shower? Why? Why would a grown man make such a mistake?) on his bed, Misha’s weight on his chest. There are other things he’s thinking about. There’s no space for pranks, for teenage vengeance, for anything else but all things Misha in his head. 

“By the way,” Jensen says as he grabs Misha by his shoulders and rolls them around so he’s on top of him, “It wasn’t Jared with the dog shit. And yes, it _was_ dog shit.”

Misha’s eyes widen at first, but then he shuffles under Jensen and purses his lips. “Of course it was you. Should have known.”

“Why?” Jensen frowns and makes a fake grimace, “Are you suggesting I’m a dog shit person?”

Misha taps Jensen’s arm playfully. “You’re a dumbass. Anyway, how _could you_? Humiliating the love of your life like that!”

Jensen snorts, “Please, I’m keeping you just because the sex is great,” he acclaims and since they’ve never been exactly lovey-dovey, it might as well be true. It doesn’t offend Misha, though, not even a little bit, because – his sex skills just got complimented, of course he’s not going to complain.

“You say those words,” Misha whines instead, “Yet you’re just sort of lying here not even touching me properly.”

“Shut up,” Jensen comments, then hums, “No, wait, I’m going to do that.” With those words, he finally leans in and seals their mouths, and although it’s only been a few minutes – maybe not even that long – since their last kiss, it feels like they haven’t kissed in days; weeks, perhaps.

Misha must be playing some sort of a game in his head, because even though he opens his mouth for Jensen, lets him play with his tongue, he remains unresponsive. And for a while, Jensen doesn’t mind – he lets his tongue explore Misha’s mouth like it’s the first time they’re even kissing; he lets himself bite down on Misha’s parted lips hard enough for it to hurt and soft enough not to make it bleed.

Jensen’s not really sure what it is that makes Misha whimper, the sound stuck at the back of his throat like a call for help. Maybe it’s the bite, maybe it’s the way Jensen has been working his way up Misha’s torso with his hands and now finally getting to his nipples, maybe it’s just because he can’t hold it back anymore.

Misha’s hands fly through the air and land on Jensen’s ass like they’re meant to be there. He smiles into the kiss and squeezes Jensen’s ass as if he wanted to leave bruises. Jensen groans and it makes him move his hips, his crotch meeting Misha’s halfway.

“ _Mish_ ,” Jensen breathes out, suddenly breaking the kiss. “Want you,” he adds after a few seconds and sits up, straddling Misha’s hips, while pulling off his t-shirt. It’s awkward and he hates it that he needs to stand up on the bed (too turned on to think straight, okay, don’t judge him) to take off his briefs. Seriously, what was he thinking? Lucky Misha who always insists on walking around naked. 

Their breathing has somewhat quickened, as if it was a natural reaction happening in them, around them, between them. When Jensen finally positions himself between Misha’s spread legs, he’s already so turned on his hands are a bit shaky.

And Misha’s hands are needy. That’s the only proper and correct adjective; those hands grab, hold and squeeze; and those fingers grip and scratch. 

Jensen is trying really hard to do this the proper way, lube and all, but it’s only been a few minutes when Misha starts pulling at Jensen’s shoulders, leaving red marks when his hands slip and his nails try to linger there. 

“C’mon,” he whines like an unhappy pup and even his legs, wrapped around Jensen’s waist, push him forwards. “D’you think I can do this all night? Because I can’t.”

Jensen stops his movements and looks up, his eyes catching Misha’s. And he wonders why he’s here, with this guy of all guys he could have had (or could have wanted). Why he’s decided to spend his time with a guy from work with strange manners and messy hair who makes bad jokes even during sex? And, yeah, so maybe it’s not just a bed thing after all.

Either way, no time to think about that when there’s a dick brushing against yours, really. That’s the right time for action.

It’s Jensen’s personal war, perhaps both worse and much better than the stupid prank war they’re in. It’s a war where he needs to decide whether he wants to kiss, or touch, or fuck, or move, or stay still, or look. And it’s a tough one, because to be perfectly honest, he wants to do all of that, at the very same time. But that’s not manageable, because Misha is too much – too many places to kiss and touch, too beautiful and warm to simply move or just stay still. And honestly, there’s nothing like watching Misha during this.

The way he tries to keep his eyes open but then, eventually, the pleasure overpowers him and his eyes flutter closed, and his lips remain parted slightly. The way he can’t keep his hands to himself, not even like this, and he needs to be touching Jensen at all times. And then there’s his voice – that’s food for ears, but whatever, it still counts – going from really low to really high-pitched, depending on what’s happening.

And they don’t talk – they never do. In these moments, Jensen buried deep inside Misha, they’re two mute human beings who communicate through touch and looks and silent whimpers, as if afraid being loud would give them away and the whole world would find out about them. 

When they’re done and the muffled moans dissolve into silence, their heartbeats still too fast, they’re lying next to each other like and old, married couple. And after all the sweat mixed with come, it would almost feel bitter and somewhat nostalgic if it weren’t for Misha and his ability to break any kind of uncomfortable.

“Gonna get back at you for that dog shit thing,” he exclaims, his breathing still not back to normal. “I’m Misha Collins and I will avenge my poor bag.”

Jensen laughs and his hand searches for Misha’s until they twine fingers. “Just don’t hurt yourself during the process, okay?”

“Well, aren’t you a caring mother,” Misha comments and shifting on the bed, he rolls over onto his side and leaning in, he forces a sloppy kiss onto Jensen’s cheek. “But don’t worry, it’s nice. I’m not complaining.”

Jensen sighs. “I just wish the stupid war was over. Seriously. I’m not sixteen, I don’t enjoy throwing water balloons at other people.”

“Or you just want to be able to take me out on a date without Padalecki killing you for it. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Don’t overestimate your power.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time you call me _Mish_ with that voice of yours. I swear to God.”

“Shut up or I’ll make the return of the dog shit happen,” Jensen jokes, and the blush creeping onto his face is embarrassingly outstanding, probably visible from space.

Really, them pretending they’re not in love with each other might just be the best prank of the whole war. And they’re pulling it so beautifully even _they_ will be surprised when all is revealed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is, um, actually going to have a sequel. I already have it all planned in my head. So, if you liked this and would like to read more, stay tuned. :D


End file.
